The male Gypsy rose and buttoned his coat over his waistcoat. I
thought he was going to attack me. Instead of this, he said to the
landlord:
'_She's_ in for a set-to agin. She's sure to quarrel with me if I
interferes, so I'll just go on to the place and not spile sport.
Don't let her kill the chap, though, Mr. Blyth, if you can anyways
help it. Anyhows, _I_ ain't a-goin' to be called in for witness.'
With that he left the house.
The Gypsy girl looked at me from head to foot, and exclaimed,
'Lucky for you, my fine fellow, that I'm a duke's chavi, an' mustn't
fight, else I'd pretty soon ask you outside and settle this off in no
time. But you'd better keep clear of Mrs. Davies's cottage, I can
tell you. Every stick in that house is mine.'
And, forgetting in her rage to pay her score, she picked up her
strange-looking musical instrument, put it into a bag, and stalked
out.
'She's got a queer temper of her own,' said the landlord; 'but she
ain't a bad sort for all that. She's clever, too: she's the only
woman in Wales, they say, as can play on the crwth now since Mrs.
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